


A Gathering

by Sunskull



Category: My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: Gen, Implied Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 00:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunskull/pseuds/Sunskull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A wish for things to go back the way they were. A fervent hope the wish didn't come true. [Gerard/Bert] [shortfic]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gathering

"Hi."

"Hello."

Standing awkwardly, trying to avoid eye contact. Unable to communicate. Being civil in the presence of others. So much anger. So much longing. A wish for things to go back to the way they were. A fervent hope that the wish didn't come true.

"How's life?"

"It's good."

"You're still with-?"

"Yep."

Silence. A male waiter in a white shirt with a black bow tie walks past holding a tray of canapés. 

"How's your-?"

"Fine."

Whose idea was it to force them into the same room, after such public vitriol? Seven years had been and gone, and none of that terrible hurt and fury had faded. Stuck at the same party, together- cajoled into good behaviour. 

The memories swam in their heads; the happy times, the arguments, the ill-advised sexual contact...

"I saw you're working on..."

He nods, and hazel briefly meets blue.

"Uh-huh."

"It looks good."

"Thanks."

An olive branch. An unwanted olive branch. The nostalgia was useless. Standing in the same room was proving that. The past was fun while it was going on, then hateful as it ended and now all of it felt sad and limp.

Why had they ever bothered with each other? They might as well be strangers. Sarcastic thoughts slithered through their minds.

'Does he still like being spanked?'

'Is he still on medication?'

'Does he think about that night?'

'Does he still miss me like I miss him?'

The thoughts are forced away, in favour of memories of insults and bruises.

'We aren't good together,' they both think, 'I need to get out.'

"So... I can see my friend," he inclines his head towards a figure by a female waiter holding a tray of champagne flutes. 

"Yeah, me too," he replied, nodding his head towards a bandmate, whose eyebrows knit together in worry when he sees that the two are talking.

"Bye."

"Yeah, bye."

His bandmate remarks at how well they treated each other, when he explains the conversation. Well, what were they going to do? Brawl in the middle of the party? Cause a massive scene and ruin the night for everyone else?

No. They are far above that.


End file.
